Memoire Involontaire
by Raven55
Summary: “Why won’t you look at me...” he whispered. “I don’t...I can’t. If I look at you then...I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”


**Disclaimer: I own nothing **

**AN: For those who are interested, there's an explanation of the title down at the bottom of this story.**

**- Memoire ****Involontaire**** -**

"Tea?"

"No thanks."

"Coffee then? Or a biscuit. Go on, at least have a biscuit."

He took one silently. She avoided looking at him and stared out the window instead. He took this quiet moment to analyse the livingroom he was in. _Her _livingroom.

It was surprisingly neat. Matching chairs and table, flowery drapes for curtains and even a doily underneath the biscuit tray on the coffeetable. She, meanwhile, was sitting stiffly on the edge of the leather couch opposite him, wearing a frilly pastel dress that fluttered with each movement.

'How bourgeois.' he though with disgust.

This didn't comply with the passionate side of her that he knew so well.

"Lovely weather, don't you think?" she said in a vaguely complacent voice.

He looked at her in horror. "How can you be so trite!"

Her head snapped back vindictively. "_You're_ the one who came to visit with nothing to say. I had to do something to break the awkwardness and I'd rather be trite than silent."

"I've got enough to talk about. There is _so much_ we need to talk about, Ginny. But you don't seem to want to face it."

She looked at him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and leaned back into the couch. He watched her dress moving upwards from her ankles to her knees as she did so and he couldn't help wondering when she had said goodbye to her knee-lenght skirts in favour of this puritan cut.

"There's nothing to talk about anymore, Draco. I'm married now. I made a promise that I would love him faithfully and forever and I'm not about to go back on that."

He leaned over the coffeetable and placed his hand on her knee. Immediately she felt a shiver going through her and she slapped his hand away, trying to ignore the memory of him doing that before...of how his hands had slid up her legs until they had reached her waist...

"You never seemed to care about promises to him. Not when you were his girlfriend, not as his fiancee. That never used to stop you from loving me."

She shifted away from his reach. "All of that was before I made a sacred vow. I made my choice when I said 'I do'."

He lowered his head. "I just can't believe you can switch off your feelings like that. Not something as passionate as this, us."

He moved over to her couch and took her hand. This time she didn't stop him from touching her. Without letting go he stood up and looked out the window as she had done. The sight of her was too much for him to bear at the moment. The feeling of her hand in his was horrible and yet wonderful at the same time.

He remembered the first time she had taken him by the hand. The setting had far from romantic; a boring brithday party with boring people and both their dates waiting by the punchbowl. But the event was still engraved in his memory. Her soft, shy smile at his surprised stare, and the soft, shy kiss that had followed to assure him. He felt his heart warm at the memory.

It had also been the same hand that had once guided his own hands to the buttons of her shirt. He remembered undoing them slowly to torture her. But in the end it had been too much to endure even for him, let alone her.

He looked around and saw she had averted her face again. Pained, he let go of her hand, hurt too much to hold on.

"Why won't you look at me..." he whispered.

"I don't...I _can't_. If I look at you then...I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."

Unable to hold it in any longer, he threw himself down at her feet. All caution and all rules he had set up forhimself forgotten, he clasped his hands to her thighs and rested his head in her lap.

"Ginny, please! Look at me again! Don't stop, don't hold back. For God's sake, I _love_ you!"

She said nothing but he could feel she was shaking as she tried to muffle the sound of her sobs. Hesitantly, she ran her hand through his hair. She had loved doing that so much. It was comforting to both of them, so reassuring that it was all alright. But it wasn't alright.

"Please let me hold you..." he whispered hoarsly. "Just let me hold you, allow me to. So I can remember. Don't force me to let go, to forget you..."

Her fingers in his hair froze and then she pushed his hands away, standing up and leaving him alone, lost, on the floor.

"I can't...I'm married..."

"So am I!" he exclaimed desperately. "But we were wrong, Ginny! We should never have let each other go."

"But we did!" she cried. "And because we had good reasons. We tried so many times to find some sense in it, to find a way we could make it work. But everytime we realised that it was impossible! To save ourselves the pain, if not the others, we decided to stop it...to let go. It's just impossible, why won't you understand that!"

She turned her back to him and rubber her arms. They'd had this discussion before, but everytime she had to fight to keep herself from falling. It was so tempting to believe him. She wanted nothing more than to find a solution, but she knew there was none.

"But how could we have decided something so horrible? Reason shouldn't come into it when love's involved, Gin. We chose the easy way out, back to our partners. But when was that ever fair on us? You can't convince me that you're happy this way."

"The situation was never fair. We always knew that it wouldn't be."

Draco got to his feet. Looking at her, knowing he couldn't touch her, was unbearable. It felt as if a black hole had replaced his heart, sucking everything around it inside. He knew she was waiting for her husband, not for him. Now he realised it had been foolish of him to come here. Foolish and stupid. And reckless.

"Ginny..."

He stared at his feet for a moment. Well, if he had been reckless already there was no reason for him to stop now. She seemed to still be crying as he walked up behind her. Carefully he placed a hand on her shaking shoulder and immediately he felt her stiffen.

But as he took another step closer she leaned into him, enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her will. He rested his chin on her head and didn't know what to say. This was their last chance, their last opportunity to find a solution. If he left without one, she would find the strength inside her to reject him for the sake of her marriage. The strength to reject happiness for the sake of safety.

"I wish we could have decided differently." he said, trying to ignore the lump in his throat.

She nodded. "I know."

He sank his head down to her ear and kissed it lightly. As a reflex she turned her head away to avoid him, but this revealed her long, slender neck. Quickly he bent down and placed a kiss, wanting to do something that she would remember, something other than the words that he couldn't find the power for to utter.

She leaned into him heavier at this and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Don't do this to me, Draco. You know I could never say no."

"Too late my darling. I can't stop, you know I can't."

She sighed and allowed his hands to slide down her shoulders, all the way down her arms to her waist until he had reached her hips. Slowly he slid one between her thighs. She moaned softly and immediately he remembered all those times before when she had moaned, sighed and called out his name.

But this time he knew it was different. This time, there would be no _next _time. No more beguiling looks, no more secret kisses. No more moments in which they felt as one being, whole, complete. Again the black hole inside him roared. All he could do to fight the pain was to let her make him forget. He burried his nose in her scarlet hair to take in the soothing scent that was her.

"You should go..." she murmered in between sighs.

"Do you really want me to leave?" he asked her as his other hand slid up to her breast.

"...No...but Harry could be home soon..."

"Be mine." he whispered. "Just for this moment, be mine and forget about him. Just be mine and I'll be yours and I'll never ask you for anything again. I'll leave."

Suddenly she turned around and looked him deep in the eye. He could see the wet tracks where tears had been rolling down her cheeks. He cupped her face in his hands and wiped them away with his thumbs. She raised her hand to his mouth and traced his lips with her fingers. He kissed them lightly and she smiled.

Without having to say a word, she leaned in to kiss him and he replied instantly. Never had he held on to her this tightly. He was afraid that she would step back if he let go. But she didn't want to step back anymore than he did. Slowly her hands started to slide around his waist and they crawled down to the backpockets of his jeans where they stayed.

Softly he moaned her name into the kiss and she retreated for a moment.

He looked at her questioningly, but as she took his hands and started to walk backwards, he realised she was guiding him out the livingroom, away from the window and possible prying eyes and into the hall that led to the rest of the house. Once they had reached the bedroom, she closed the door and leaned against it.

"One last time." she whispered.

He looked at her silently for a moment before nodding his head slowly. "One last time."

Like the first time, she guided his hands to the buttons on her dress and closed her eyes as she felt his hands slowly pulling at the fabric of her clothes. He wasn't as slow as he had been then, but she thanked him for it. Slow would have been unbearable now. Undressed to her underwear she stepped towards him again and took his hands as she pulled him towards the bed.

He just watched her for a few moments, wanting to imprint this image in his mind forever. She was so beautiful. Nothing compared to her. But she turned her head away from his lingering gaze and as he leaned down to kiss her again, he saw she was crying.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, trying to wipe the tears away.

He hung his head and sat up straight. "No. Don't be."

He picked up the dress from the floor and gave it to her. As she got dressed, he kept his eyes glued to the floor. It had been reckless to come here today.

"Draco..." she whispered.

He looked at her with a soft understanding smile. "It really is impossible, isn't it."

Unable to speak, she just nodded her head.

He took her hand once more and wanted to tell her it was alright. They would both be alright, in the end. But before he could open his mouth, they heard the sound of the front door opening. Harry was home.

Drying her eyes, Ginny gave him a pleading look. She didn't want him to go. If he left, then that was it. It would be over.

But Draco shook his head and turned towards the door. He had to leave if he wanted to survive. If _both_ of them were to survive.

Without looking at her over his shoulder for the last time he left her alone in the bedroom, ignoring the eyes that were boring into his back as best he could. Each step he took crushed his will to leave even more. Raising his nose into the air, he tried to reach out for his last bit of courage before he walked into the livingroom, to the man that had taken away his chance at happiness.

Harry was surprised to see him.

"Oh, hello Draco. I didn't know you were visiting today."

"It was an impulsive thing..." he mumbled.

"How's Astoria doing?"

"...Well."

"Good. Are you staying for dinner? I'll call Ginny."

"No!" Draco said brusquely. "I must be off."

He wouldn't be able to be in this house any longer now Harry was home. He had to get out before it all went wrong. All he could see now was that pleading look Ginny had had in her eyes. If he stayed, if he saw her again, he would break.

"If you must." Harry said, a little curious. "Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, give Astoria my love."

"Sure."

"...Goodbye, then."

"...Farewell."

**

* * *

****The End**

* * *

_Memoire __Involontaire_ is a literary term derived from a 'tactic' used by Proust. It means that, for instance, when you eat a piece of cake, you suddenly remember every other piece of cake you have ever eaten, simply because all these instances are conjured up through the internal sensation caused by eating/tasting the piece of cake. The cake is a metaphore for your memories that are metonymically linked to eating cake. This sudden arising of pieces of memory is called Memoire Involontaire. I hope I have explained it well enough. I tried to conjure up the same effect in the contact between Ginny and Draco. Whether I succeeded is up to you to decide.


End file.
